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Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
November 6, 2022 — Year C
Readings: 2 Mc 7:1-2, 9-14 / Ps 17 / 2 Thes 2:16-3:5 / Lk 20:27-38
by Rev. Mr. Mark De La Hunt, Permanent Deacon
Many years ago, in a different parish, I gathered with a handful of adults to talk about the creed. That was the first time I learned that some people mistakenly think the “resurrection of the body” that we profess at the end of the Apostle’s creed is Jesus’. In fact, we are professing that our bodies will be raised on the last day.
Bishop Barron was reflecting on this miracle in his book, To Light a Fire on the Earth, and he referenced C.S. Lewis. C.S. Lewis dedicated a book to miracles, and in it he argued that of all the world’s great religions, only Christianity depended on miracles for its authenticity. He wrote, “The mind that asks for a non-miraculous Christianity is a mind in the process of relapsing from Christianity into mere religion (Barron 138).” Preeminent among all those miracles was Jesus’ resurrection. The resurrection of our bodies is at the heart of today’s readings.
In today’s gospel Jesus is countering the Sadducees’ disbelief in this. The Sadducees try to show that this belief is comical by asking which of the widow’s seven husbands is her husband in the afterlife (Lk 20:33). Jesus, by the Sadducees’ admission, gave a solid answer. First, He points out that after our resurrection, things will be different. We will no longer need to marry or to be married. In Moses’ time, a brother was to marry his dead brother’s wife to ensure she had children, and his brother’s name would carry on. But in heaven, there is no need for having children and therefore no need for marriage (Gadenz 340). Second, Jesus quotes from the book of Exodus, because it is one of the five books the Sadducees consider inspired by God. (He meets them where they are and then tries to build a bridge from there to the fullness of the truth.) He points out that Moses called God the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and says, “He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for to Him all are alive (Lk 20: 37-38).”
Some things don’t change, and four hundred years later St. Augustine wrote, “On no point does the Christian faith encounter more opposition than on the resurrection of the body (CCC 996).” And as for today, many believe they will live on spiritually, but regarding our mortal bodies coming back to life too, maybe not so much. Jehovah’s Witnesses are one such example. However, bodily resurrection is a core teaching of our faith, and we need to believe it and be able to share it with non-believers.
Let’s start with God’s word “which is useful for teaching (2 Tim 3:16).” In the first reading from 2nd Maccabees, a mother and her seven sons refuse to violate God’s law even when threatened with death, not even after watching how painfully the others died before the executioner got around to them. Why did they endure such suffering? The second brother said this, “The King of the world will raise us up to live again forever,” and the third brother added that he hoped to receive his hands again from God (2 Mac 7: 9, 11).” Clearly, they believed that this life is fleeting, but there will be another and it is eternal, with their body, and without any suffering (Rev 21:4).
Peter Kreeft, in his personal reflection on today’s readings, points out that in the second reading, St. Paul articulates how the eight martyrs in Maccabees could find the courage and strength to do what they did (Kreeft 632). Paul wrote, “May our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father, who has loved us and given us everlasting encouragement and good hope through His grace, encourage your hearts and strengthen them in every good deed and word (2 Thes 2:16).” It was in “good hope and through [God’s] grace” that the seven brothers and their mother were able to stay faithful to the end. Sounds good, but what is the “good hope” Paul mentions that we receive through grace?
The “good hope” is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit (CCC 1817).” In other words, we hope in the resurrection from the dead, of which Christ was the first (1 Cor 15:12-14). And here is the good news. “If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you (Rom 8:11).”
Some of you may be wondering then, what happens immediately after death? Here is what the Church teaches. “In death, [which is] the separation of the soul from the body, the human body decays and the soul goes to meet God, while awaiting its reunion with its glorified body. God, in His almighty power, will definitively grant incorruptible life to our bodies by reuniting them with our souls, through the power of Jesus’ resurrection (CCC 997).”
Sacred scripture and sacred tradition speak so often of our bodily resurrection that, if we are not careful, we nod in agreement but fail to stop and, like Mary, ponder it in our heart (Lk 2:19). Obviously, the author of 2nd Maccabees pondered it, and six hundred years before Jesus was born, the prophet Ezekiel did. His words on the resurrection are prayed in the Liturgy of the Hours, “You shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and make you come up out of them, my people! I will put my spirit in you that you may come to life… (Ez 37: 13-14).” God placed His Spirit in us at baptism. Thus, the hope of our bodily resurrection is solemnly symbolized by the white pall we place on the casket, reminding us of a loved one placing a white garment on our body when we were baptized.
A friend and Holy Name of Mary parishioner named John, experienced in a powerful way this past week this connection between baptism, death, and resurrection. Ten minutes after receiving Holy Communion, John felt a pain in his chest which then traveled up to his shoulder and down his arm. His arm went limp, and his hand clenched involuntarily. They took him to the ER. A nurse walked in and said, “They call me Princess and I’m here to get you started on your way.” This was very unsettling to John because he is fond of calling himself “Prince John” in light of becoming a brother of our most high king through baptism. John said he had this discomforting awareness during all this that his soul was up there and his body down here. Our priests anointed him and prayed for him. The tests were all negative and John walked out of the hospital feeling greatly moved by all this. He said, “I cannot stop thinking about it.” In other words, John was pondering it in his heart. God has called him to a deeper awareness of the mystery of the resurrection and through John’s story all of us too.
Here are a few closing thoughts. Our bodies are sacred. They are not disposable shells for our immortal soul. This is very evident at a Mass of Christian burial. We reverence the deceased’s body, either in a casket or an urn, by praying at their side, and if in a casket, kissing their forehead. Once the casket is closed, we place a radiant white pall over it, sprinkling holy water upon the urn or casket, moving the casket or urn to the foot of the altar and placing the paschal candle near them just as it was at their baptism. We incense the casket or urn in the sign of the cross, tenderly placing our hand upon the casket, or putting our hand on our heart while looking at the urn, as we come forward for Holy Communion.
From birth to death our bodies smile, laugh, cry, sing, hug, kiss, learn, sin, love, forgive, bring new life into the world, and are anointed with oil and blessed. It stands to reason that all this beauty and wonder of our body, that God took on in Jesus, would be just as immortal as the soul that animates it. For, as Jesus said, “I am the life and the resurrection…In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be. (Jn 11:25; 14:2-3).” Amen.
Citations for Further Study
Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 30, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Wis 11:22-12:2 / Ps 145 / 2 Thes 1:11-2:2 / Lk 19:1-10
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor
Benjamin Franklin was a scientist, inventor, political philosopher. Before I could get my citizenship, I had to study a little bit about the history of the United States of America. He helped draft and signed the Declaration of Independence and was the first postmaster of the US.
One day Benjamin Franklin met a lady walking along with her young son. She asked him, “Why is it that the riches of the world bring unhappiness?” He didn’t answer her. Instead, he got an apple from a basket and gave it to the boy. The little boy was very happy and ate the apple immediately. Franklin gave him another, and then another one, until both of the boy’s hands had three apples. Since he couldn’t hold them all, an apple eventually fell to the ground. The boy cried loudly.
Franklin then said to the mother, “You see, when the boy had two apples, which he could comfortably carry, he was happy. But look, when he had too many to carry, and one of them dropped, he started crying. So also with wealth.”
Zacchaeus was a wealthy man, but he was lonely. He had everything, but he was not happy. He was at the top of his profession, but he was despised by his fellow men.
His parents named him “Zacchaeus.” Jewish names have meanings that correspond to one’s personality, just like when we give names to our children. For example, Gabriel means “man of God.” Dominic means “belonging to the Lord.” Irene means “peace.” Ann means “grace,” Corazon means “heart.” The name Zacchaeus means “just” or “clean.” Yet, when the people of Jericho heard the name “Zacchaeus,” they did not think of a just man or a “Mr. Clean” guy, but a detestable and dishonest man.
Tax collectors were despised and considered outcasts, traitors, puppets of the Romans, no doubt because they accumulated great wealth at the expense of others. Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector and was much hated by all the people. Beyond collecting his quota that he turned into the state, he surcharged the poor and pocketed the extra money that he collected.
The chances of Zacchaeus entering God’s Kingdom were minimal. No self-respecting Jew would endorse his application. Even Jesus Christ pointed out that a rich person would find it very difficult to enter the Kingdom. The rich young man who actually led a clean life was not able to follow; how much more difficult for Zacchaeus, who had sold his soul for money?
Yet Jesus, in today’s gospel, singled out Zacchaeus for the honor of staying at his home. Jesus said to Zacchaeus, “Zacchaeus, hurry down, for I must stay at your house today.” Imagine that Jesus said to you, “I must stay at your house today.” How would you react to such an invitation? Would you be excited or embarrassed? Would your home be ready? Would you be personally ready to welcome Jesus into your home?
Why would Jesus single him out? It is because Zacchaeus needed God’s merciful love and forgiveness. In his encounter with Jesus, he found more than he imagined possible. He shows the depth of his repentance by deciding to give up half of his goods to the poor, and to use the other half for making restitution for fraud. This shows how radical his conversion was, coupled with restitution. Just like in the sacrament of Reconciliation, after we have confessed all our sins to the priest, the priest will advise us to return what we have taken, restore the dignity of others that we have destroyed, and more. Then he gives penitential works to restore what we have destroyed.
We have another reason why Jesus singled out Zacchaeus. It is because in Zacchaeus’s entire life, he was always looking down for money and business. His focus is on profit and worldly pleasure. But he was asked to rise up and see that the love and forgiveness of God is vast, and that he has the opportunity to change himself for the better.
When he was at the top of the sycamore tree, Jesus asked him to go down. It means that we should not always be at the top and seeing heaven, but to go down and continue doing the mission that Jesus has given us.
There are people who keep their distance from Jesus. They call themselves Christians, but they do not get involved. They are in the tree observing all that is going on in the Church. They are liberal with their comments, generous with their recommendations, and always ready with advice. But they will stay there at a safe distance, looking down from a sheltered observation point.
Today’s gospel ends with a beautiful saying of Jesus: The Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost. Jesus Christ is telling us that He seeks the sinners and the lost in order to offer them, and us, salvation. Such is the great love of God. The sinners have an important place in His plan of salvation. But seeking God does not mean that we need to wait until He finds us. Choosing to hide ourselves from Him never helps us in the process. Life is, and should be, a constant search for God.
So, answering the call of Jesus means to come down from our position as observer. We cannot be spectators. We have to join the community and participate in its activities. We have to let Jesus enter the inner sanctuary of our personal lives.
As we continue the celebration of the Holy Mass, let us pray for those who do not have the Lord God dwelling in their homes. Let us ask the Lord to reach out to these souls so that they, too, may partake in the universal salvation plan of God.
KEEP READINGThirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 23, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Sir 35: 12-14, 16-18 / Ps 34 / 2 Tm 4: 6-8,16-18 / Lk 18: 9-14
by Rev. Mr. Mark De La Hunt, Permanent Deacon
Has frustration or doubt crept into your prayer life? Two weeks in a row, the Church’s readings have emphasized prayer. The theme last week was perseverance in prayer, illustrated by that great scene with Moses having to hold up his arms for the Israelites to win the battle (Ex 17: 8-13). The battle went on so long that two others had to hold up Moses’ arms for him, and so the battle was won. Jesus assured us in last week’s gospel that God will “speedily” answer our prayers (Lk 18).
This week’s theme for prayer is, “God is a good-good Father.” In the gospel, we meet the sinful tax collector praying, “O God be merciful to me, a sinner (Lk 18:13).” He was justified, Bible-speak for “made right with God.” St. Francis de Sales reflected on this and wrote, “Alas! Since the goodness of God is so immense that one moment suffices to obtain and receive His grace, what assurance can we have that he who was yesterday a sinner is not a saint today (Barron 408/Introduction to a Devout Life)?” May we share in God’s goodness and make the apologizing other person right with us as speedily as God did the tax collector!
The reading from Sirach describes God’s goodness. He is just, “knows no favorites,” listens to the oppressed, the orphan, and the widow (Sir 35: 12-15). Let’s put these Bible words into American English. For oppressed, think beat down or abused or unfairly treated at work. For orphan, think orphan and those rejected by or cast out of their family. And for widow, think widow for sure, but I would add widower and people abandoned by their spouse against their will. In all these downtrodden states of life, we long for goodness.
That longing wisely and often takes the form of prayer. The author of Sirach writes that our prayers reach heaven when we “serve Him and are lowly (Sir 35: 16).” That describes St. Paul in the second reading, in his letter to Timothy, which Paul was writing as God’s servant and as a lowly prisoner. Paul said his friends abandoned him. But then, echoing Sirach, he writes, “but the Lord stood by me and gave me strength (2 Tim 4:16).” In this stressful situation, St. Paul is able to see God’s grace and goodness.
King David, who wrote today’s 34th Psalm, obviously had a similar distressing life experience to Paul’s proclaiming, “The Lord is close to the broken hearted; and those who are crushed in spirit He saves (Ps 34: 18).” I have heard many sad life stories over the years. However, as the song says, we have a “good, good Father,” and He answers all prayers.
I’ll share one such story of prayers answered. At this past summer’s mission trip to the mountainous, southwest corner of Virginia, near the UVA Wise campus, I met a man named David. Our group of teenagers and chaperones went to his home in the middle of the mountains on Father’s Day. Our mission was to rebuild his deck and to add a wheelchair ramp to it, all in God’s name. David only had one leg. He had almost died three times, including a motorcycle and a car accident, as well as in surgery. He had been a rough and tumble coal mine worker. He told me he used to relish a good fight, but in his own words, he would get dangerously violent and couldn’t stop himself.
We invited him to pray with us each day when we arrived, when we did our lunch scripture reflection, and before we left each day, and he always participated. He often joked and laughed with the youth, who affectionately called him Big Dave. One time, while the others worked, He and I had a deep spiritual conversation. When I asked him if he thought God made good come from the loss of his leg to rescue his soul, the only way God could get through to such a rough and tough son of a gun, David teared up, looked off into the distance, and just nodded yes. For a few minutes, David was too choked up to speak.
At the end of the week, his deck was fully restored, complete with a safe ramp for his wheelchair. At our week’s ending banquet, David took the microphone and told all the priests and seminarians, chaperones, Deacons, and youth that when those teenagers showed up at his house on Father’s Day, it was the best Father’s Day he had ever had. He wiped away tears while giving each of the teens and us chaperones a hug before saying goodbye. All of this was an answer to someone’s prayer. David knows his good, good Father who visited him on Father’s Day, rebuilt his deck, made him laugh and cry, and affirmed his dignity.
King David, Paul, the tax collector, and Big Dave all had been made lowly by a checkered past and all experienced God’s grace born by the winds of someone’s prayer. But prayer doesn’t just transform the lives of those prayed for, but also of those who pray for them. And that brings us to the all-important question at this point in every Mass, “How do I respond to today’s readings, this homily, and the sacramental grace we are about to receive?”
Here is something to try this week. You know how an athlete will warm up and get their mind focused before competing? Fr. Thomas Dubay suggests we approach prayer in a similar fashion (Dubay Prayer Primer). Here’s one way to do that. Start your prayer by telling God that He is a good, good Father who answers every prayer and sends grace wherever it is needed. Follow that with a prayer of recollection, recalling the times in your life He cared for you. Recalling those times will cheer your heart and strengthen your faith so that you can finish your prayer in confidence that it is being answered. Remember that Jesus said that even a tiny bit of faith can move a mountain (Mt 17:20-21).
Here are a few gems of wisdom for amping up your prayer. St. Theresa of Avila said, “…it is impossible to speak to [God] and to the world at the same time,” so give Him your undivided attention. To get centered on God like that, Bishop Barron prays the Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” He suggests breathing in on the first part and out on the second part. Father Dubay says we need to go to Mass; the liturgy has sacramental power that nourishes our prayer. He adds that while praying, don’t think much, but love much. And St. Augustine, putting a different spin on today’s reading from Sirach, reminds us that, “To pray well, one must live well.”
I’ll close by sharing some wisdom from my spiritual director, Carrie McKeown. She noticed that I prayed a lot for healing of my lung disease and for help overcoming it so I could be a good husband, father, Deacon and manager. So, she asked me a simple question, “Do you believe God takes care of you?” This is one of those questions that is tempting to answer quickly but bears more fruit if we examine our life in light of it. It’s ok to pray for your own needs, but my prayer was leading to aggravation with God, not restfulness in His goodness.
St. Margaret Mary Alocoque (who developed the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus) said it this way: “Keep your heart in peace and let nothing trouble you…for God’s dwelling is in peace.” Padre Pio and other saints have said similar things. If I’m stressing instead of seeing God’s grace like St. Paul did in prison, do I always believe God takes care of me? Since that time a couple of years ago, I mostly pray for others and sure enough, God has taken care of me. This is a key to being a wounded prayer warrior, knowing deep down God is good and cares for you. Let’s make Chris Tomlin’s lyrics our prayer this week. Lord, “You are a good good Father. It’s who you are, it is who you are…And I’m loved by you. It’s who I am, it’s who I am.” Amen.
Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 16, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Ex 17:8-13 / Ps 121 / 2 Tm 3:14-4:2 / Lk 18:1-8
by Rev. Mr. Barry Welch, Guest Homilist
Something that I learned this week I found pretty interesting: That is, from a really early age, some studies say that, as early as three years old, children exhibit an understanding and a sense of fairness, of justice. At the age of three! They’re barely able to walk and talk, and yet they understand fairness.
How many have heard this: “That’s not fair!” “He got more ice cream that I got!” [Invites those watching the livestream to post comments about what’s not fair.] It’s not fair that both Virginia Tech and UVA have horrible football teams at the same time. ONE should be good, right?
Here’s a secret also, because just a few years later, at the age of around eight, children begin to understand something that many of us, if not all of us, in this room already know all too well: Life’s not fair. At the age of eight, just five years after they figured out fairness and justice, they’re learning that life isn’t fair.
And when has life ever been fair? Throughout all of history, pride and power and politics, war, wealth, sickness, accidents, natural disasters, school, work, play, taxes, death. Life isn’t fair. It’s just not.
But we learn, we adapt. We deal with it, but sometimes this unfairness, this lack of justice just builds up and beats us down. It seeds discouragement; we lose heart. We become weary. It’s just not fair.
In this parable that we hear from Jesus, He talks about this judge. This is not a good guy. This judge is about as far away from fairness and goodness as you can get. We hear from Jesus that we’re supposed to love God with everything we’ve got and love our neighbor as ourself. And yet, this judge even repeats himself, “I do not fear God nor respect any human being.” He’s pretty much the opposite of good and just. He’s only out for himself. He’s corrupt. He couldn’t care less about justice. If someone of influence or means, or had a good bribe, or someone who’s a friend, or a friend of a friend, someone that could do him a favor, that’s where his decision is going to be swayed. That isn’t fair.
What about this widow that we hear about? Jesus chose this character of a widow very carefully and wisely, because a widow in that society was about the lowest status that you could possibly be. With the loss of her husband, she had zero status. In fact, all of the inheritance that was owned by her husband would have been claimed by his family. If there were children involved, they would have to go to court, and we just heard about the judge. In that society, life is completely and totally against a widow. In fact, she shouldn’t really even be speaking to a civil authority. She isn’t worthy enough in that society for that. Talk about unfair. That isn’t fair.
So what’s the point? This is an unusual situation with parables that Jesus gives, because Jesus tells us what the point of the parable is before He tells us the story of the parable. He told us that it is about the necessity to pray always, without becoming weary.
We can get confused about this parable. Jesus isn’t saying that if we nag God long enough, hard enough, often enough, we’ll eventually get Him to do exactly what we want Him to do. No way.
He’s contrasting God with this judge. He’s talking about how God is different. If an unrighteous and unjust judge with limited power would give in to persistent petitions, how much more so would a righteous judge and just judge with limitless power hear the cries of those who call to Him?
The point, Jesus is telling us, is to pray always and not get weary. But Jesus is also teaching us something that goes a little deeper. Typical Jesus. There’s something a little bit deeper: Life’s not fair, and it never will be until Jesus, the just judge, returns. Jesus, Son of the Creator, who came to be with us and one with us. He lived, suffered, died, and rose, and He ascended, justifying us for our salvation, even though we aren’t worthy of that. He cleared the path for us to live with Him in love eternally, and He promised He would come again in glory. He promised, and He will do it. That’s the point.
All of our prayer, like the widow, our relentless prayer and petitions, in spite of discouragement, in spite of weariness, in spite of setbacks and trials and burdens in our life, the prayer of the chosen ones is to bring us justice, to bring us to the world that is to come. To bring us to the kingdom that is to come, forever and ever. That’s the prayer that will come speedily and when we least expect it. That’s the prayer we long for. That’s the prayer we want to pray for incessantly. That’s the point.
That’s not to say that we don’t want to pray for a cure to cancer, or world peace, or to be appreciated and loved, or health for ourselves and for our family members and for our loved ones, strength and wisdom to our leaders, and a good parking spot at the mall. Of course, we want to pray for these things, and of course our loving God hears these prayers.
But the point of this story, this parable, is an eschatological one. That means it’s of the kingdom to come. It’s for life everlasting. It’s for a just God bringing about a just end and a just life everlasting, just as He promised. That’s the point.
But…When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on earth?
Amen.
KEEP READINGTwenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 9, 2022 — Year C
Readings: 2 Kgs 5:14-17 / Ps 98 / 2 Tm 2:8-13 / Lk 17:11-19
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor
A story is told about a magical horse owned by a priest. The horse would run only if the phrase, “Thanks be to God,” was uttered, and the horse would stop when it heard, “Hail Mary, full of grace.” One day, a Protestant man borrowed the horse, and he was instructed in the magic words that were needed to make it run or stop. The man said, “Thanks be to God,” and sure enough, the horse started to run, and when it was about to bump a tree, he said, “Hail Mary, full of grace,” and the horse stopped abruptly. Then he let it run again, by saying, “Thanks be to God.” He was enjoying the ride until he came near a cliff. Unfortunately, he forgot the magic words to stop the horse. He tried, “Our Father” – it did not stop. “Amazing Grace” – the horse continued to gallop. When the horse was almost to the edge of the cliff, he suddenly remembered the words, and cried out, “Hail Mary, full of grace.” The horse stopped just in time. The man sighed in relief, “Thanks be to God.”
Whatever happened to the other nine? The nine lepers were cured and did not return to thank the Lord. Leprosy was a terrible disease; terrible not only because it destroyed the body, but also because its victims were separated from their families and society. There were very strict laws that prohibited lepers from mixing with healthy people. Imagine the sufferings of the lepers. I bet the cured lepers ran home to their families. They must have been thrilled beyond description. There must have been some grand celebrations.
But why did only one return? I’m sure all intended to return and thank the Lord. Perhaps we can understand if we put it in modern day language, so here it goes. Mary had to return home and clean the house; there were only men living there and the place was a mess. Aaron arrived home just in time to save the harvest; he worked day and night. Martha had to catch up on her favorite TV series. David found his business in crisis and dedicated himself to getting it in order. Amos returned to find his wife had remarried and moved away; he drank his pain away. Peter lost his old job and was looking for a new one. Anna headed back to thank the Lord but could not resist that sale sign in the shopping mall. And so on.
So, there you go, brothers and sisters – excuses, excuses, excuses, all except Simon the Samaritan. Jesus had given the sick the gift of life, and like any gift, it cannot be complete without a thank you. Yes, we teach our children to say thank you. We celebrate Thanksgiving each year as a national holiday. We have a need to say thanks.
We celebrate the Eucharist each week, and the word Eucharist means thanksgiving. A gift requires a thank you, not so much for the giver, but for the receiver. The poet George Herbert wrote, “Oh God, you have given us so much. Give us one more thing – a grateful heart.” We see miracles all the time. We have seen how many times people have been cured of diseases, sometimes with no logical medical explanation. When people are sick or dying, they take their relationship with the Lord seriously. Many return to the sacraments and change their priorities in life. But when the crisis is over, some of them are never seen again in the church.
If we examine our lives, we can see God’s hand in so many instances and close calls. We all have been touched by Jesus. This Sunday, let us ask ourselves, “Have our lives changed as a result of the encounter?” Are we like one of the nine, superficial in our relationship with Christ, except when we think we really need Him? Or have we responded like the Samaritan? Today we are reminded to be grateful for everything. Gratitude is something that we cannot ignore at the expense of our decency and integrity.
The first reading, according the Second Book of Kings and the gospel of today, presents to us an attitude of gratitude. Naaman after being cured of leprosy and the Samaritan after being healed by Jesus. Why is an attitude of gratitude to God crucial to the wholeness of mind, body, and spirit? Apparently, to be made well, we must add thanksgiving to our faith. The person who makes such acknowledgement experiences a salvation that goes beyond the merely physical cure. It is a reorientation of the inner life.
How is our impulse to thank others related to our impulse to thank God? What does gratitude contribute to our being made well in body, mind, and soul? Why is it so important that Jesus would chastise those who didn’t value it? Gratitude keeps us connected to the giver of the gift. It helps us recognize the source of a gift. Furthermore, it keeps us grounded in the value of the gift as we take it into new pursuits and places. All good gifts come from God.
The attitude of gratitude keeps us focused on the source of life, love, and each new day. Maybe when we acknowledge the source of love, we are more likely to share it with others. Maybe that is why it is important enough for Jesus to lament its lack from the other nine. So, brothers and sisters, we will not forget to thank the Lord for all the blessings that we have received in our lives.
May Jesus Christ be praised.
KEEP READINGTwenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 2, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Hab 1:2-3; 2:2-4 / Ps 95 / 2 Tm 1:6-8, 13-14 / Lk 17:5-10
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor
An elderly woman lived in one half of a duplex apartment. She was extremely poor but was a good woman. She prayed a great deal. In the other half of the duplex lived the owner. He was a man of no faith, no prayer, no religion. He often made fun of the old lady’s trust in God. One day, this woman was praying quite loudly, telling the Lord that she had no food in the house. The godless one heard her and decided that he would play a trick on the old lady. He took a loaf of bread, laid it at her front door, rang the bell, and hurried back to his apartment to hear through the wall her cry of delight: Thank you Lord. I just knew that You wouldn’t fail me! With a devilish grin, the man came back to her front door and told her, “You silly old woman! You think God answered your prayers? I’m the one who brought that loaf of bread.” Without any dismay, the old woman exclaimed, “Praise the Lord! He always helps me in my needs, even if He has to use the devil to answer my prayers.”
The readings this Sunday teach us lessons about faith and trust in God. In the first reading, the prophet Habukkuk complains to God: How long, O Lord? I cry for help but You do not listen. The prophet is asking whether or not God cares for His people. There is war and violence, misery and death all around their place. The powerful Babylonians are about to demolish the people of Israel. How can God allow things like this to happen?
Habukkuk is trying to question the loving presence of God, perhaps like many of us when we are confronted with so many problems and so much pain. Remarkably, God appears not to be displeased with Habukkuk, since He answers him with gentle and reassuring words. It sounds as if He’s telling the prophet, “Be patient. I have a plan. I will intervene when it is time. What I ask of you now is faith and if you have it, you will live.”
What kind of faith does God ask of Habukkuk? The prophet believes in God’s existence. In fact, he is already imploring for divine intervention. Yet God wants Habukkuk to develop a kind of faith that is trustful and steadfast in the face of trials and difficulties. God would like Habukkuk to keep believing that God will not abandon His people, and that He will save them in His own time.
In today’s gospel, the Apostles ask Jesus to increase their faith. The Apostles themselves realize their need for a more solid kind of believing in order to persevere in following the Lord. Real faith is necessary, considering the fact that it is not easy to understand the radical teachings of Jesus, like leaving homes and families, daily carrying the cross, forgiving one another, and loving one’s enemies. It is even more difficult to follow the Lord’s way of life, like living simply, serving the poor, teaching the ignorant, exorcising demons, touching lepers, and challenging authorities.
The Lord says in reply, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” Jesus compares faith with a tiny mustard seed whose power does not depend on its size, but on its great potential hidden within itself. Faith, even when it’s little, has the capacity to do unbelievable things in the life of individuals and communities.
The use of the image of the mustard seed also suggests that the quality of faith is more important than its quantity. We might think that the more we know theology, the more prayers we recite, the more religious organizations we join, the stronger our faith becomes. Such is not necessarily true. In the Gospel of John, the Lord says, “Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in Me? The words that I speak to you, I do not speak on my own. The Father who dwells in Me is doing His works. Believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in Me. Or else believe because of the works themselves. Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes in Me will do the works that I do.” (John 14:10-12)
Somehow these words can help us understand the kind of faith that we need to develop in our lives. Faith is our unqualified acceptance of Jesus as the Son of God and Savior of humankind. Our faith is genuine if we believe in the person of Jesus, His salvific words and actions, and if we trust in His absolute power over darkness and sin. The believer would manifest this faith meaningfully by participating in the saving works of Jesus.
There is a story of a small boy, a passenger on a luxury ship. The ship was nearly sinking because of a very strong typhoon. Everyone was in panic, grabbing lifeboats and life jackets from each other. This little boy was sitting in a chair as if nothing was happening. One adult passenger approached him and asked, “Boy, it seems that you don’t mind what is happening. Don’t you know that in a few minutes, we are going to sink?” The boy answered, “Excuse me, sir, the captain of the ship is my father. Because he is my father, I trust him. Why would I be afraid?” The captain of our lives is none other than God Himself.
Saint Paul writes from prison to encourage Timothy to keep the faith. His words to Timothy remind us that we have all received a special gift from God, a gift which is more than enough to enable us to remain strong in faith. That is the Holy Spirit: the spirit of power, the spirit of love and self-control.
So today, let us ask God to increase our faith. As we try to face with courage our own problems in life, let us not forget that our difficulties can never equal the sacrifice of Jesus which He offered for our sake. When we pray to the Lord, “Lord, increase our faith,” we are opening ourselves to be moved more and more by the power of His spirit. With the help of the Holy Spirit, who dwells within us, we can stir into flame the gift of faith. We become capable of guarding this rich trust and of witnessing to our faith before others.
KEEP READINGTwenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
September 25, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Am 6:1a, 4-7 / Ps 146 / 1 Tm 6:11-16 / Lk 16:19-31
by Rev. Mr. Barry Welch, Guest Homilist
The parable we heard today is certainly an indictment of the rich man. But the rich man didn’t really do anything wrong. He didn’t kill anybody; he didn’t harm Lazarus; he didn’t call the cops and have him sent away. He didn’t really do anything wrong, but still he was indicted here, and he was indicted because of what he did not do. In the beginning of the Mass, we recite the Confiteor: Forgive me for what I have done and what I have failed to do.
When Jesus was giving this parable, the people who were present probably all had a rich man in their hearts – especially the Pharisees, because that’s whom he was directing His message to. At the very beginning it says “He said to the Pharisees…”
Frankly, there is probably a little bit of the “rich man” in all of us today. In this message, we have the “literal” or surface meaning: It’s pretty clear that Jesus is calling out greed, self-importance, selfishness, gluttony, all of those things that are clearly ailments of our current society and culture. That surface message is a strong lesson for all of us to pray about, meditate on, and to consider in our lives.
Also, this severe contrast between the very rich and the super poor spotlights God’s love for all human beings and also our role in bringing about His love and His kingdom. I think the riches, the superabundance, the sumptuousness that we see on the rich man’s table in this story represent the grace of God, overflowing. And it’s available to all. But do we all know it? Do we all sense it, feel it, and believe it?
Israel, the people of God, in a very special way were called apart and gifted with the knowledge of this grace of God. God spoke directly to them; He walked with them, and talked with them, and brought them out of slavery in Egypt, crossed the Red Sea, and eventually brought them to the Promised Land. Ultimately, he made salvation available to everyone through the Chosen People, in the person of Jesus Christ.
The rich man had all of this showered upon him in his house: the food, the abundance, the overflowing table representing God’s grace every single day – not just Sunday – and yet, he keeps it to himself. He’s comfortable. He’s fine. He’s taken care of. He’s secure. Or so he thinks. But we’re not called to gorge on God’s grace for ourselves. We, too, have these things, like the rich man had: We have Moses and the prophets; we have the Word of God; and we have the One who rose from the dead. We also have the Church and her sacraments.
In the story, Lazarus was close to the feast. He was right there: he could have picked up the scraps. There are probably Lazaruses even here in this gathering space or at home on Facebook, poor in spirit and desiring but a small scrap, not really knowing Jesus and His love for them, but do we see them? Do we even get close enough to know their names, the way Jesus knew Lazarus’s name? Note that this is the only parable Jesus told in which someone was named. In all the others, it’s “the father”; it’s “the women”; it’s “the blind man”; it’s “the virgin”. In this one, Jesus named him, because it’s important.
Then there are those brothers. There are those who are out there that may not be “close to the feast” of God’s grace: our friends and family, children and grandchildren, co-workers, fellow students. After we’re gone, it’s too late; we can’t reach them then. They have the prophets, they have the Word, they have Moses, they even have someone who rose from the dead, but do they know? It’s your job now — your job and my job.
We go through our lives in this material world and this Western enlightened culture with it baked into us: individualism. It’s all about me. I have a right. And consumerism. I, me, mine. I worked hard for this; this is mine. It trains our brains toward selfishness, even with grace, and the knowledge of salvation and the forgiveness of sins.
But here we are, we’re called to come. We’re here to worship. We’re not here to worship the priest, or the deacon, or the choir, or the altar servers. We’re not here to worship each other, or the architecture, or the décor. Don’t get me wrong: All of those are very, very important, because every single one of them either represents Jesus Christ or points us toward Him. They’re all very important.
But why are we here? We’re here to worship our Lord and Savior: the One who willingly sacrificed and died on the cross. We’re here to receive that abundant, sumptuous, overflowing grace poured out on this altar, on this table. We feed on that sumptuous altar with the Word and the Eucharist. And then we go out, and we take it out into the world where our brothers and sisters are. That’s why, at the end of Mass, the very last element of the Mass is “the Dismissal”. The Dismissal is so important that the Mass itself gets its name from the Latin word for dismissal. The Deacon, when present, gets the privilege of executing the Dismissal: “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” “Go in peace glorifying God by your life.” “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord!”
Think about that: At the end of every Mass, we’re given that Dismissal; that call. Think about how important that Dismissal is. Because we’re to take those graces – that overflowing abundance of graces – and not hoard them for ourselves but take that abundance and that love of Christ out into the world to our brothers and sisters to make them aware of the knowledge of salvation and the forgiveness of their sins.
There are lots of ways we can do it: We can do it by words, smiles, hugs, encouragement, our actions, with our love and care for every human, with our charity, and with our prayers. Please pray – It works!
Certainly, we can help – and we are called to help and assist – everyone in need with physical needs, material needs, medical needs, all of those things. We’re always called to do that. Always! But foremost is to bring them the grace of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. They have Moses, and they have the prophets, and praise God, they have you.
KEEP READINGTwenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
September 18, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Am 8:4-7 / Ps 113 / 1 Tm 2:1-8 / Lk 16:1-13
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor
There is a story about an angel who appeared at a faculty meeting and told the dean that he had come to reward him for his years of devoted service. The dean is asked to choose one of three blessings: infinite wealth, infinite fame, or infinite wisdom. Without hesitation, the dean asked for infinite wisdom. “You’ve got it,” the angel said and disappeared. All heads turned toward the dean, who sat glowing in the aura of infinite wisdom. Finally, one of his colleagues whispered, “Say something.” The dean looked at them and said, “I should have taken the money.”
Wisdom, in the sense of being smart or shrewd, as we see in today’s gospel parable of the dishonest servant, is not an end in itself. One can be smart and use one’s smartness to do mean things. We know for a fact that many con artists and terrorists are smart people who use their smartness to create unhappiness in the world.
Today’s parable challenges us to be smart in the pursuit of the Kingdom of God, just as godless people are smart in their pursuit of selfish goals and ambitions. Jesus uses the example of a smart manager in his master’s business to teach us the need to be smart in the Lord’s service. We are challenged to imitate the manager’s shrewdness, not his dishonesty.
The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. Why did the master, who had made up his mind to fire the manager, now commend him? Probably the manager had been running his master’s business in a drab, routine, and lifeless manner, devoid of creativity and imagination. As a result, the business was failing, so the master decided it was time to fire him. He said, “Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.”
The manager is facing the real danger of being dismissed from service. He knows the seriousness of the situation. He knows exactly how helpless he is. That is why he says to himself, “What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. (Luke 16:3) He is in a very difficult and precarious situation. He scratches his head and comes up with this ingenious plan to safeguard his future. The master praises him, because if the manager had been using such smart thinking in the daily running of the business, he would have been a much more successful manager rather than a failure.
The parable challenges all of us to be smart managers. Yes, we are all called to be managers. God has entrusted the whole of His creation into our hands as His managers. Jesus Christ, in addition, entrusts the kingdom of God, the kingdom of love, justice, and peace into our hands as His managers. World peace and harmony and the renewal of all things in Christ, are the business of us all, collectively and individually. Jesus calls it the Kingdom of God.
Our business as followers of Christ, ordained and unordained believers, is to help bring about the Kingdom of God, starting with our own selves. We have all been given the necessary resources to do this. We have been equipped with the truth of faith, we have been empowered by the Holy Spirit, who dwells in our hearts, and we have been given time. Sooner or later, we shall be called upon to render an account of how we have invested and managed these resources.
There is a story about a very rich woman who died and went to heaven. Saint Peter escorted her down a magnificent street on which each house was beautifully made like a palace. The wealthy woman saw one house that was particularly beautiful and asked who lived there. “That,” Saint Peter answered, “is the home of your servant.” “Well,” the woman said, smiling, “If my servant gets a house like that, I certainly look forward to seeing a palatial home for myself.” Soon they came to a narrow alley where the houses were small and cramped. “You will live in that house,” said Saint Peter, pointing with his finger. “Me? Live in a shanty? That’s an insult,” retorted the wealthy woman. “This is the best we can do for you,” Peter said. “You must understand that we only build your home up here with the materials you send ahead while you are still on earth.”
The Church reminds us today that it is now the time to send materials ahead of us in the afterlife, in order to build our homes in heaven. These materials are not construction materials that we can buy in a construction supply company. These materials are not just prayers and acts of charity but doing the day-to-day ordinary work in an extraordinary way. It means consciously performing your duties well, whether you are a lawyer, a government official, a teacher, a student, a policeman, or an ordinary citizen.
We don’t have to wait, like the dishonest servant, for the last-minute display of smartness to fix our eternal concerns. The time to be smart is now. The smart manager used what he could not give to get what he needed so badly: friendship with his business associates. We should likewise invest all of our temporal and spiritual resources to gain the only thing that matters in the end: the Kingdom of God.
KEEP READINGTwenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
September 11, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Ex 32:7-11, 13-14 / Ps 51 / 1 Tm 1:12-17 / Lk 15:1-32
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor
Today’s readings from the Holy Scriptures teach us about the overflowing mercy and forgiveness of God. They also talk about sin and repentance, confession, and communion, courtesy of the prodigal son and his father.
We heard in the First Reading that when Moses was on Mount Sinai, the chosen people were acting perversely. They had cast for themselves an image of a cow, were worshipping and making sacrifices to it, and giving credit to the idol for bringing them out of slavery in the land of Egypt. With that, the Lord became very upset. God was prepared to destroy them all. But Moses implored God to have mercy and forgiveness for the sinful people. Hearing the plea of Moses, God changed His mind and decided not to destroy the people as He had originally planned.
In the Second Reading, we also heard how the mercy and forgiveness of God sanctified St. Paul, because he had sincerity of heart. By the mercy of God, St. Paul, formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence, was made an example to those who would come to believe in Jesus for eternal life.
Today’s gospel also speaks of the mercy and forgiveness of God. In this case, three parables are given to declare the magnitude of the mercy of God. These are the parables of the lost sheep, of the lost coin, and of the Prodigal Son. Many tax collectors and sinners came to Jesus, and this drew criticism on the part of the Pharisees and the Scribes. They grumbled because Jesus welcomed sinners and ate with them.
Brothers and Sisters, let us meditate on the parable of the Prodigal Son. The parable begins with a request. The prodigal son says to his father, “Father, give me the share of the estate that should come to me.” Here we are given our first insight concerning sin: Sin always involves the misuse of something good.
For example, sins of the tongue, like gossip, slander, swearing, and lying, all involve the misuse of something good: namely, the God-given gift of speech. Sins of the flesh are committed when people misuse the good gift of sexuality, which the Lord intends for marriage only.
Notice that in the story, the younger son requested the share of the estate that was coming to him. He was not making an improper request. He was not asking for something evil. He was requesting something good, which his father was planning to give him anyway. His sin came when he misused the good gift and squandered his inheritance on what the gospel calls “dissolute living,” a life of dissipation.
The next interesting point is that he does all this squandering in a distant land. I don’t think that was a coincidence. When people commit sins that they intend to repent of, they desperately try to run away from the Heavenly Father, just like this boy tried to run away from his father. Those of us who commit sins make every effort to keep them secret, so that nobody knows about them. But that is a very big mistake because, eventually, all sins catch up with us, as the boy’s sins eventually caught up with him. In the parable we are told that he spent all his money, and then a famine broke out, and he found himself with nothing to eat. He ended up dining with pigs.
There we have another insight concerning sin: Sin turns us into slaves. This is something that people who have an addiction know a great deal about. A recovering alcoholic will tell you that when he started to drink excessively, he was acting in total freedom. But eventually it came to the point where he could not stop. He had become a slave to his sinful behavior.
Finally, praise God, the prodigal son wakes up and comes to his senses. He repents, but notices that his repentance is rather superficial. He has what the Church would call “imperfect contrition.” Imperfect contrition is when we are sorry for our sins because we fear the consequences, especially Hell. Perfect contrition is when we are sorry for the best possible reason: because we have offended our Heavenly Father, whom we love above all things. But notice that his father still forgives him. The Church teaches us that our Father will do the same for us. He will forgive us our serious sins if we go to Confession with at least imperfect contrition in our hearts.
Once the prodigal son is forgiven, he is able to share once again in the family meal. For us, that is symbolic of the Eucharist. That is why the Church teaches us that, if we have mortal sin, we cannot receive the Eucharist again until we have gone to Confession and confessed our sin.
The Vatican II document, Lumen Gentium, has a beautiful description of sin: Sin is before all else an offense against God and a rupture in our communion with Him. At the same time, it damages communion with the Church. For this reason, conversion entails both God’s forgiveness and reconciliation with the Church, which are expressed and accomplished liturgically by the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation.
Mother Theresa had advice for living a good life. She said:
People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of having selfish ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies. Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you. Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight. Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today people will often forget tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough. Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.
So, as we continue our Eucharistic celebration today, let us pray for those who have fallen away from the grace of God, so that divine mercy and forgiveness may reach out to them before it’s too late. May their ears be open so that they will hear that Jesus is welcoming them back home.
KEEP READINGTwenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
September 4, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Wis 9: 13-18b / Ps 90 / Phmn 9-10, 12-17 / Lk 14: 25-33
by Rev. Mr. Mark De La Hunt, Permanent Deacon
Last Sunday, Jesus spoke about the virtue of humility, as He told the Pharisee and his guests that those who humble themselves will be exalted. In today’s gospel, He is teaching us about the virtue of detachment, even from family members.
Detachment’s power is like humility in that it frees us to be happy and to love. Along with humility, it is necessary for us to respond to Jesus’ call to discipleship. Jesus told us that to be saved, we must “strive to enter through the narrow gate (Lk 13:24).” One way we strive is by detachment from our way and our stuff, which frees us to love God first and then others as our self. This is the path that leads through the narrow gate.
Bishop Barron said that one of the most challenging things Jesus ever said was, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” Father Pablo Gadenz explains this unsettling passage well. “Jesus’ reference to hating one’s relatives is a Jewish saying that uses exaggeration to indicate one’s preference. For example, in the book of Genesis, the phrase, “Leah was hated” means Jacob “loved Rachel more than Leah” (Gn 29: 30-31; Gadenz 269).” Thus, Jesus was making the point that we must love Him before everyone else, even family.
Detachment is important in our everyday life, especially family life. For example, people say the leading cause of failed marriages is money. Not so. That is a symptom, not a cause. The leading cause is the husband and wife loving the various things in this world first and then Jesus, or even loving each other first before Him. Jesus is the fount of love, not our spouse. Jesus is the source of our happiness and peace, not the accolades and stuff. We hear Jesus express it this way, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be (Lk 12:34).”
Where is our heart during Mass? Where is the treasure? During the Eucharistic prayer, Father says, “Lift up your hearts.” We enthusiastically respond, “We lift them up to the Lord.” Fr. Jeremy Driscoll says the command to “lift up our hearts” is a signal to leave all thoughts of this world behind…all our joys, all our sorrows, and all our responsibilities. Our words, “We lift them up to the Lord,” are a pledge of detachment from this world. It enables us to fully participate in the Eucharistic prayer and recognize the Eucharist as our treasure, that our hearts may be there.
When detachment applies to our ego it takes the form of humility. Jesus gave us this example, “But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also (Mt 5:39).” And St. Paul gives us more guidance in Romans 12, “Bless those who persecute you, bless and do not curse them…Repay no one evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in sight of all (Rom 12; 14, 17).” Detachment from our ego involves detachment from getting even with those who hurt or shame us. The ability to not escalate conflict is rooted in trust that God will render judgment and justice; we don’t need to.
When it comes to detachment the saints are our teachers. Here are four: St. Ignatius of Loyola, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Theresa of Avila, and one I’ll make you guess.
Our first saint, Ignatius of Loyola, in his still very popular Spiritual Exercises, developed a “Principle and Foundation” that helps us understand the spirit of Christian detachment. He starts with the most fundamental of questions, “Why were we created?” We were created to “praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by means of doing this to save our soul (O’Brien 67).” To attain this, we must make ourselves indifferent to all created things. How do we do that?!
St. Ignatius wrote that, “In everyday life we must hold ourselves in balance before all created gifts insofar as we have a choice and are not bound by some responsibility [like earning money to pay the bills]. Consequently, on our own part we ought not to seek health rather than sickness, wealth rather than poverty, honor rather than dishonor, a long life rather than a short one, and so on to all other matters. Rather, we ought to desire and choose only that which is more conducive to the end for which we are created.” Said another way, and I love this wisdom, “our only desire…should be this: I want, and I choose what better leads to God’s deepening life in me (O’Brien 67-68)”.
That is the Christian world view in a nutshell. The greatest good of everything we see and experience in this world is how it helps us to strive to draw closer to Jesus, who is the narrow gate.
The next three saints’ lives give us examples of Ignatius’s wisdom in practice.
Maybe no mere human demonstrated this world view better than St. Francis of Assisi. His detachment from possessions and ego are legendary. Bishop Barron said that St. Francis was the most powerful man in his day, for no one could cause him distress. If someone took his shirt, he would give them his pants too. If they insulted him, he would agree with them, and one up them, insulting himself even more. His detachment from his ego and his material possessions freed him to love Jesus and neighbor. Was he a lesser man from such radical detachment? No. We still admire him, study his life, put his statue in our gardens, and seek his prayers eight hundred years after his death.
Our third saint, Teresa of Avila, in her book, Way of Perfection, touches upon the three pillars of last week’s and today’s homilies. She emphasized, “three essential virtues that are the foundation of the Prayer of the Heart; humility, love of one another, and detachment.” She said that love of neighbor is enabled by our detachment from all material goods and makes us free for the service of the Kingdom. She was echoing Jesus in today’s gospel when He said, “whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple (Jn 14:33).”
Our mystery saint’s life shows us the wisdom of “seeking first the kingdom of God and all His righteousness,” for then all the things we want were given to this saint (Mt 6:33). Despite being an athlete, an actor, an outdoorsman, and accomplished scholar, he exemplified humility and detachment. He lived Ignatius’s Foundation and Principle. He chose a short life but was given a long one. He chose poverty but was given wealth. He chose a low place of service but met with world leaders and hundreds of thousands flocked to hear and see him. He chose peace but destroyed the powerful who chose violence. Who was this?
It was St. Pope John Paul II. He chose to become a priest when the penalty for doing so was death. He slept on the floor and wore a tattered cassock and gave away fancy gifts parishioners gave him. The only nice things he kept were his outdoors equipment that he could use to take the youth on hiking and skiing trips, where he taught them the Gospel to counteract the immoral teachings in the atheist communist schools. He did not seek advancement, but he was made bishop and eventually Pope. As pope, when greeting a large crowd, he often walked past the rich, famous, and powerful to hug and to bless the poor, especially moms. He did not promote violence to overthrow the communists who oppressed his beloved Poland, but he strengthened the people’s faith in God through the Catholic Church. Unified in their Catholic faith, his people gained their freedom. Detachment was so powerful and so transformative for John Paul because through it he let go and let God.
Here are some closing thoughts. A sign that detachment is working in our lives is a sense of peace about who we are and about the choices we make. I had a tiny success in practicing detachment in my own life and pray I have many more. I was disconcerted about my hair loss, my greying beard, and my declining strength and health. But then I practiced some spiritual judo and started thanking God for those things. The grace from thanking God for these signs of aging transformed them from curses to try to escape to gifts that bring joy. Wrinkles, a greying beard, and declining strength are the wrapping paper around the gifts of getting to see my grandkids, of growing in friendship with our adult children, and now that they are grown, to relearning how to be my wife’s romantic best friend.
In other words, I am learning from looking back over my life, reading about the lives of the saints, and from the saintly example of many of you to trust that God loves me and actively takes care of me. This trust enables us to detach ourselves from grasping and striving for beauty, money, power, pleasure, and honor. Once detached, we can choose the one thing that matters, keeping Jesus first in our lives.
Lord Jesus, help us to let go of our way and our stuff, that we may love You first and then others as ourself. Amen.
Citations for Further Reading
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